


Just Like Old Times

by Anonymous



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Retribution, Shaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 14:25:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18012608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: He watches in the mirror as Reyes’ jaw tightens and his shoulders stiffen. Knowing him, he’s already on edge - too much coffee and too little sleep on top of everything else - and they haven’t been on the best of terms lately. Jesse wonders for a moment if he’s more likely to throw a fist or the straight razor.





	Just Like Old Times

“You tryin’a scar up the other side of your face?” McCree asks, pausing against the door frame. He watches in the mirror as Reyes’ jaw tightens and his shoulders stiffen. Knowing him, he’s already on edge - too much coffee and too little sleep on top of everything else - and they haven’t been on the best of terms lately. Jesse wonders for a moment if he’s more likely to throw a fist or the straight razor.

Reyes closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Slowly the edge slips from his posture. He lets the hand holding his razor rest against the edge of the sink, but Jesse can still make out the tremors. When he doesn’t say anything after a long, unremarked standoff, Jesse figures it’s probably safe enough to approach.

He’s not prepared for how cold Reyes’ hand is beneath his, but tries not to react. “Let me get it,” he says, accent laid on too thick because he’s suddenly, unshakably nervous being this close to Reyes, what with everything they have yet to say to each other - and some things they never should have. “You keepin’ the goatee?”

He’d meant it as a joke, but Reyes lets Jesse take the razor without comment. Sighs deeply and finally turns around, and for a moment Jesse thinks Reyes might kiss him, heart leaping into his throat on reflex, but all he says is, “do what you want.” His eyes are flat, ringed with dark circles, crow’s feet more pronounced than Jesse remembers.

He’s hit with an unexpected pang of sympathy; for all the bones he’s still got to pick with Reyes, it’s hard to be appropriately frustrated with him when he can see, firsthand, just how hard he’s struggling to keep it all together. He wants to ask if he’s sick - why else would he be spending so much time in Moira’s lab, why else would a man genetically engineered to be the perfect soldier have trouble keeping his hands steady long enough to shave - but nothing good lies down that line of questioning. A conversation for another time, then. Maybe when he’s ready to broach the suspicion that he’s going to be asked to testify against Blackwatch - or Reyes himself - and still doesn’t know what to do when it happens. Jesse bites the inside of his lip rather than say something stupid in response and presses the edge of the razor to Reyes’ neck.

He closes his eyes again and tips his head back in tired, wordless surrender. It could almost be like old times: crowded into the bathroom together, still hot and humid from the shower, Reyes showing him how to get the closest shave he’d ever had in his life with steady, warm hands that would eventually find their way to his cock... Except Reyes keeps his grip on the sink behind him and Jesse’s the one holding his razor, careful not to irritate the cuts where Reyes must’ve nicked himself trying to make do on his own. Jesus.

He wants so badly to kiss him, but doesn’t know how Reyes would take it. Too much of a risk these days. Jesse holds his neck in his palm, thumb tucked behind Reyes’ ear and pointer finger following the velvety edge of his hairline, and reaches behind him to rinse the blade as often as he can justify bringing their bodies together.

It’s not enough. But it’s not nothing either.


End file.
